The bathroom floor feels a lot colder when accompanied by hopelessness. And I lay there, disoriented and higher then I've ever been, surrounded by pill bottles. I watched the second hand on my watch circle around. The convulsions were where I could now draw my attention. My veins bulged out with life, the tingling like little invisible pins being stuck through my skin, this is exactly where I found my comfort, and I did not want to exist outside that place.
In addition to the buzzing in my ears, my phone rang incessantly from across the bathroom floor. Every time it stopped, it started back up. However, moving did not seem appealing. I should have left my phone in my room to cut all ties from the rest of civilization. The perpetual ringing grew louder in my head, and I couldn't take it anymore. God damn it. I halfway dragged myself over to my phone. It was Tom, probably calling about fight club. I answered it without a greeting, not so sure if my words would come out coherent. "Hunt?" I let the silence hang there. "What are you doing man I called you like 9 times, listen, I need you to get down to Bucks immediately, your late." Tom could be such a business man. "Who is it?" I mumbled quietly. "Bryon Douglas, hey you feelin' alright, kid?" I hung up the phone and dragged myself over to the toilet where I violently removed the contents of my stomach. This was pretty low for a high
. I stumbled through my house like a zombie trying to recollect where I threw my keys. I had no business driving in my current state, getting behind the wheel was a full out death wish, but i didn't care. Nothing mattered. The numbness wasn't just physical anymore, it thrived through my veins as well as my mental state. I became a hollow shell, no substance or purpose, Death was the last thing on my mind. Hollow is an insidious emotion, the pain starts out very miserable and sickening, but a couple pills and swigs of Jack Daniels later, your body and mind gets used to the suffering, just like eyes adjust to darkness, and its gone. that's when the apathetic, chilling numbness sets in and you no longer care about your well being. What pain?
Bucks basement was dark and damp, steamy with smoke and sweaty bodies, dimly lit with a single hanging bulb from the concrete ceiling. no one saw me stumble in through the back door, there was another fight going on. I lurked in the outskirts of the tightly formed circle, waiting for my turn. I saw a few of my friends, Leo, Buck, Tim, Owen, and Blair. When I heard the crowds shouts go up about 20 octaves, I knew that was my cue. I pushed through the ring of men and found my way to the center. Blood covered the floor in a dark red hue, the remnants of a battle zone. Tom came up to me with a face of concern. "Ey. You don't look to hot, kid. Hey! look at me. you on crack?" Not quite crack but.. "I'm fine man, lets do this." Tom didn't like us fighting high, it could potentially mess up the fight. A shitty fight equaled no money. I nodded reassuringly. Tom nodded in return and held a microphone to his mouth. "Bryon Douglas? Bryon Douglas?" His name echoed through Toms microphone. Bryon emerged shirtless from the thick crowd. I suddenly felt strong and aggressive. "Now you boys know the rules. No shirts or shoes, if someone taps out, back off, no rings or weapons. I want this to be a clean fight. Ready when you are, boys." Tom backed up into the crowd. Bryon wasn't by any means a twig. You could phrase it better as Hulk-like. But the numbness took over again, and the thought was taken from me. Fear was gone, nothing mattered once again. Redness took over my vision, the color of the blood stained floor underneath us. I hit the kid with brutality. I felt like a maniac. I became a cold machine. He hit me back. I laughed with vengeance. I hit him again, then again, then even harder again. And I kept going. Hunter I think hes down.
I hit him in the temple. Hunter I think hes tapped out, give it a rest! I dropped the kid like a bad habit, I added to the bloody floor. I stood over Bryon Douglas, covered in his blood. I was suddenly pulled away from him by a number of arms, I struggled to break free of them. Reality slowly sank in. I lost my child due to my girlfriends heroine addiction. She didn't have to be planned, My kid is still my kid. I could have taught her how to fish, how to count. I could have watched her grow up and bring her boyfriends over and complain about how they weren't good enough for her, then hear her tell me she hates me and slam her bedroom door shut. I could have hugged her and told her they didn't deserve her in the first place after they broke her heart. Audrey was hurting just as bad i'm sure, but I couldn't look her in the face without feeling sick. I wanted to be there for her but I needed to be there for myself first, Heart broken people can't fix other heart broken people. I turned around and punched the wall. The silent crowd looked at me like I was insane. Leo came up to me and brought me outside. "Alright. Whats gotten into you? You alright?" He said trying to look for something written on my face. "I'm fuckin' going crazy that's whats gotten into me!" I yelled like he did it. "Whoa whoa whoa, calm down, what happened?" I lit a cigarette and sat on the porch steps. I placed my bloody hands on my head. "Audrey was pregnant man. She OD'ed and she lost it." My voice cracked like a scared little boy holding back tears. Leo was silent. He sat down next to me on the porch and also lit a cigarette. He put his arm around my shoulder and we just sat there. smoking our cigarettes and not saying a word. What could he say? You can't fix something like that. "Should I call her?" I asked Leo after a few moments. He looked at me sternly. "Call her."
